


Flowery Words

by valethra



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Almost. That’ll happen Eventually., Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, First Dates, First Meetings, Fluff, Language of Flowers, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valethra/pseuds/valethra
Summary: Keith agrees to watch his family’s flower shop while his brother is away with his husband on a much-needed vacation. It’s a boring few days, and Keith expects it all to be a dull and uneventful drag. Then, a strange but charming new customer bursts in with a very specific request. And things are never the same again.[Based on the infamous tumblr prompt, “how do i passive-aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flower?”]
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Mentioned Shiro/Adam - Relationship
Comments: 13
Kudos: 252





	Flowery Words

It's a quiet day in late autumn. The air is just beginning to feel like winter. Even if it isn't yet cold, the promise of it is there. Warmth settles in just long enough to trick one into thinking that summer never left, but a stern gust of wind quickly dispels that idea. 

This time of year isn't a busy one for the local floral shop. It isn't a large chain or a bustling business even on good days, but at this time of year, with no major holidays looming overhead, the shop often seems like a ghost town. It's sometimes empty for so long that the lone attendant zones out and forgets that he's supposed to be working at all.

It's one of those days. The young man sweeping the floors— in theory and not in reality— jerks back to his senses. Another one of those reminders in the form of a breeze rattled the window just enough to get his attention. He gets back to what he is supposed to be doing.

Normally, Keith is accompanied by his older brother, or by the man's husband, or by the both of them. But Keith has assured them both that he'll be fine looking after the shop on his own during the off-season. It would only be for a few days, he insisted. Takashi and Adam both work too hard most of the time and could really use the time off. It's been a while since they took a trip together for their anniversary and they never got a traditional honeymoon.

Keith _did_ promise he would be okay on his own, and he wasn't wrong, but Keith has never been great at the "customer service" thing, and he knows that. He isn't quite _rude_. But he isn't especially friendly, either. He doesn't have Takashi's charm or Adam's intelligence. He knows his stuff, in regards to flowers (care and symbolism and all of that), but isn't always good at communicating what he knows. It's probably a good thing that the store has been so empty this weekend. Keith doesn't want to scare any regulars away.

Keith sweeps all of the spilled soil and dried leaves from the floor's creaky wooden planks. The task is done too quickly and there's still an hour left before the boy gets to shut the place down for his lunch break. He squints out the wide, clear window. He isn't going to like running out to grab food in that wind. Luck is rarely (if ever) on his side, so he'll get the brunt of it. He's certain of that.

He sighs and falls forward to rest unprofessionally across the cashier's counter. He's clearly bored. Both bored and distracted until the front door swings itself open with a nearly violent shove. The bell clangs messily and there are stomping footsteps approaching before Keith can register the face of the newcomer. He yanks himself up, back straight, a bad replica of his usual plastic customer service half-smile firmly in place.

"Welcome to—"

The customer slams a wad of bills onto the counter with a _thwap_ that startles Keith for a second time. He is the most desperate-looking and agitated customer that this shop has ever seen. Which isn't saying all that much, as people are rarely antsy when buying flowers from some little corner store, but still.

"How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?"

Keith's mouth remains open for a few seconds longer than it should, and when it closes, he pouts and his eyebrows raise of their own accord.

"I'm _sorry?_ "

The ever-present pubescent crack in Keith's voice is clearly audible in that short question. The customer groans. His name is Lance, and he has never been a patient sort. Not because he's demanding, but because his own thoughts and dreams and pulse race at a speed that others can never seem to keep up with.

"I don't have a lot of time to explain, but I have to deal with this really awful rich guy who's always throwing underhanded insults at me. I wanna beat him at his own game. So what's 'fuck you' in flower?"

Keith continues to blink for a moment. Lance's glare seemed threatening at a glance, but now, upon closer inspection, seems comical. Lance is a passionate guy and he expresses his emotions openly. It doesn't mean he's about to punch anyone. Keith senses that, so he laughs. It disarms Lance and his shoulders slump, losing their hard lines.

"You're lucky you got me instead of either of the owners," Keith says, turning around to search through the selection for the specific flowers he has in mind. "I know what you need and I'm JUST enough of an asshole to tell you."

"Good. Let's do this," Lance cheers under his breath, rubbing his hands together maniacally.

Keith grabs a stool and drags it to the far corner. Lance follows him tentatively. Keith can feel Lance's eyes on his back, but he doesn't say anything. Keith's not sure what he's staring at.

"Are you sure your target will understand?" Keith asks as he grabs a handful of geraniums. "Not everyone knows flower language. If he doesn't, he might get the impression that you're getting him a gift for no reason. Which would give him the opposite of the right message."

"Oh, I'm sure he knows," Lance scoffs. "Really snooty guy, long hair and fancy British accent and all. He'll know. It's for this fundraiser party thing of his I have to go to. He's probably expecting gifts."

"Why even go if you hate him so much?"

"It's... complicated. Overlapping friends." Lance winces as he thinks about how much help that guy has been to his good friends Katie and Hunk. Sure, the guy has money, but Lance just plain doesn't like him. Maybe that's just because he keeps stealing all of the girls Lance expresses interest in, and he's starting to think that the man does it on purpose.

"I get you." Keith can think of a few people he doesn't like but has been forced to interact with, whether it's for his brother's business or because he frequently doesn't like people. "If it's a public thing and he has an image to maintain, he won't even be able to call you out on it. He'll have to take it and thank you and smile."

"I—" Lance grins. "I hadn't even thought of that! This is— I am a _genius_."

"Sure." Keith has finished collecting the flowers he needs from up high. He has a small armful of them as he carefully lowers himself back down. Lance looks like he wants to protest, to help him down.

"What, uh... what do you have there?" He asks. Keith smiles mischievously as he lays the flowers down on the counter. He points at each variety of flower as he explains.

"Geraniums symbolize stupidity. Carnations mean different things depending on the color, but the yellow ones are for disappointment. Lilies are similar. Orange ones are for hatred."

"Wow!" Lance exclaims. "Flowers are rude!"

"They can be. In the right hands. For the amount of money you have, though, I can throw in some more... What exactly is it you hate so much about this guy? We can make it a customized insult."

"He's full of it," Lance answers. "He acts like this really polite social prince all the time, but he's secretly really full of himself."

"Ah." Keith snatches up a few foxglove flowers and gestures with them. "You think he's insincere?"

"Exactly that."

"Alright." Keith adds the flowers to the pile. He'll arrange them once they know, for sure, everything that they're going to include. "Anything else?"

"Well, he... seems to think that he's a genius, but a lot of the stuff he's done is really just because of his money, not his brain."

"I see." A pinch of meadowsweet. "A useless man."

Lance snaps and makes some sort of finger gun gesture at Keith, which he hopes means that he's made the right decision. Keith carefully gathers up the pile, trying to get an eye for the colors and to picture the right arrangement.

"You won't need a vase if you're just going to hand it to him," Keith says, "but how about a ribbon?"

"Whatever makes it look like I spent a lot of money on it. Then he can't say anything."

"A good plan."

Lance is transfixed as Keith deftly begins to assemble the bouquet. He's never really thought about what goes into doing that. He's thinking about it now. There's a thought and an intent to it, from the heights to the colors. Nothing haphazard. It all has to make sense, to come together in a ribbon-wrapped bundle that looks and smells pretty.

Lance doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to interrupt. He does notice, though, that the flower boy's eyes flicker up every few seconds and he's _definitely_ amused by something. Is Lance blushing? Is he making a face? He's definitely not thinking about the fact that his sister mentioned a cute boy working here. "Adorable, but kind of grouchy," his sister said.

"I'm Lance, by the way," he says. He doesn't have to say that. He leaves a pause for the other one to fill in his name. Instead, he gives Lance a slightly agitated look, and then he gestures at his own chest. There's a name tag there. Of course.

Flower boy's name is _Keith_ , Lance learns. Which isn't the kind of name Lance would give him. He's not sure what he _would_ name Keith. Something elven, maybe, because he seems to fit into this little landscape of old wood and plants and he has pretty hair.

He realizes that Keith has been trying to talk to him. Trying to fill the awkward silence, probably, since they're the only two people in the shop.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Lance asks. Keith is smirking. He kind of wants to wipe that smile off his face.

"I said that you look familiar," Keith repeats. Lance laughs sheepishly.

"Right, right— I'm, uh, a twin. Rachel is one of your regulars, I think? She told me to try this place if I needed something cheap really fast." Keith looks at him as if waiting for him to elaborate. Lance is _not_ going to admit the real reason he decided to check this place out. "There's... also Marco. Older brother. He buys a lot of flowers for the girl of the week."

Keith snickers.

"How many of you _are_ there?"

"Only five! A-And then my parents, and my brother's wife, and my niece and nephew, and my grandparents, but that's it."

"Huh. Big family."

"Is it?"

"It is to me." Keith shrugs and looks up. "My whole family fits up there. My older brother owns the place. It's just him and his husband and me, and all three of us live above the shop."

Lance is surprised by the phrase "his husband". But, hey, the times are changing. He hopes that soon enough, that sort of thing will be so commonplace that it won't surprise him to hear it.

"Maybe you just have a little family," Lance argues, and he does think that three is a lonely number.

"Guess so," Keith relents. He's not looking for some kind of debate. He only means to point out that it's all relative. To him, Lance's family sounds so big that it would be exhausting to keep up with. Keith is just fine with his small and close-knit unit.

"Does your brother normally leave you to look after the place by yourself?" Lance asks. Keith shakes his head.

"Not unless we're really dead. They're away for a little while."

"Then it must be kind of boring. Being stuck here alone all day."

"Well, I live right upstairs, so it's not so bad. It's not like there's a long commute, and sometimes it's nice to have the apartment to myself." Keith laughs nervously. "It... can be a bit awkward to eat lunch by myself. And when the store is empty I get very bored very fast."

"I'll bet you're glad I showed up, then," Lance guesses.

Keith leaves that question hanging for a moment. He meets Lance's eyes as he finishes off the bouquet, sealing the careful arrangement of paper and cellophane shut with an immaculate ribbon.

"Sure," he says.

Lance gets the feeling that he's being mocked, somehow. Keith doesn't disclose the fact that Rachel talked about her twin brother quite a bit. More specifically, about the fact that Lance was single and looking and a really great guy that she was sure Keith would like. Pretty nosy, that Rachel.

Keith is finished with the bouquet. He asks Lance if he likes it. Lance thinks it's nice. He doesn't know enough about flowers to offer any other input. Keith takes it to the register and has to do a bunch of calculations. Lance opts to buy one of the store's little canvas totes.

"Not bad," Lance admits when he sees the total price. Keith knows what he's doing and has configured it in such a way that Lance has a little bit of money left over. Lance agrees to the amount, Keith rings him up, and then Lance has his bouquet. "When do you get to go home?" He asks absently.

Keith's eyebrow raises almost imperceptibly.

"Not for a few more hours. I was going to take my lunch soon."

"Were you just gonna eat upstairs?"

"No. I usually go across the street. Coffee's good."

"Let's go, then," Lance says nonchalantly, and he marches for the door.

"I'm sorry?" Keith says for the second time in the short time that he has "known" Lance McClain. His hands freeze on the strings of his apron.

"I'll take you," Lance elaborates. He holds up the canvas bag and the flowers peek out of its edges. "As a thanks for the impeccable service."

Keith stares apprehensively.

He hasn't been on a date in a very, _very_ long time, because he is slow to trust and he's been wounded before. Not always by boyfriends. By friends, too, and by the parents that decided they didn't want him. Life has taught him that almost nobody sticks around and that when people act nice it's because they want something in return.

Is this even a date? Keith doesn't know. He doesn't know as they're crossing the street together. He doesn't know as Lance holds the door open for him. When did that happen? Keith was trying to think of excuses to say "no" and now he's here. It's too late. Lance, somehow, has ensnared him in some kind of trap.

He quietly mumbles his usual order at the lady behind the counter, hoping she won't comment on the fact that he has company. She gives Keith a subtle wink. He tries not to groan. This particular girl knows Keith's older brother and they've both been urging Keith to "get back out there". Whatever that means. Lance is vaguely flirtatious towards her, too— can he just not help himself? Is he like that with everybody?

They have a seat at a table in a secluded corner, and Keith tries to eat his little turkey wrap and ignore Lance. He knows he's being stared at. That Lance is trying to think of an icebreaker or something.

"Thanks for paying," he says, because he doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Lance laughs. Keith thinks he must have gotten it wrong.

"So what did Rachel say about me?" Lance asks. Keith flinches, surprised by the accuracy of his guess, and Lance laughs at him again.

"I wasn't paying attention." Keith is lying.

"You're suddenly a lot less friendly," Lance pouts, feigning offense. Keith rolls his eyes.

"The name tag is off."

"You were only so sweet to me because you were working?!"

"I— I wasn't _sweet!_ Just polite. There's a difference."

"But you didn't have to tell me about your family."

"I didn't say much."

Lance is having the time of his life arguing with Keith and Keith doesn't understand it at all. He's being rude enough, isn't he? Lance just won't get the message. Or he's gotten the message and is ignoring it in favor of playing his games.

"You said it's just you, your older brother, and his husband," Lance recalls, scratching his chin. He strikes Keith as an actor of some sort. His gestures are exaggerated, almost cartoonish. "What made the three of you decide to go into business? It's a scary thing to do without a lot of people to fall back on."

Keith twitches. His skin feels itchy with Lance's curious gaze on him. The counter girl is watching them as she pretends to clean the coffee machine.

Sure. _Fine_. Keith admits it— he was being a bit flirtatious earlier. He knew what he was doing when he smiled his teasing little smile. But that was because he thought Lance was only going to be there for a few minutes. That the flirtations were based on something entirely physical. But now he's asking questions about Keith's life, his family, and that's something else entirely. Something he's not really used to.

"We... had to do SOMETHING to make money," Keith replies lamely. Lance clicks his tongue. That answer won't do. He doesn't actually _owe_ Lance an answer. "We just... wanted to make something for ourselves. It's hard. Sometimes."

"I would imagine so... but why flowers?"

"I like them.”

"That's all?"

"That's all."

"Your brother became a florist and started a small business, _in this economy_ , because you like flowers."

Keith is bright red. He knows he's red-faced right now.

"It was just my idea! We knew we wanted to work together and make something for ourselves, and I suggested a flower shop because we both know flowers. Adam thought it was a good idea too."

"But why do you both know flowers?"

Keith squeezes his eyes shut. He can hear Lance giggling. What did he do to deserve this interrogation? Is this what he gets for being a tease?

"There was... a garden. Near where we grew up. I liked to go there when things were too overwhelming. So he'd come and find me, and he would sit with me and teach me about the different flowers, about what they meant, and then we started using them to talk to each other in codes. ...So I'm really good at that. I don't know where he learned it from. Must have read about it."

Lance takes a few moments to absorb that, leaning back in his chair. Keith's looking down at his food, but his ears are red at the tips. Keith's story raises obvious questions that Lance is not sure he wants to ask. Where did they grow up that Keith was constantly running off to hide in a garden? Why didn't his parents go looking for him instead of his brother? _Are_ there parents? Keith hasn't mentioned any.

It's no wonder the guy's so private, Lance thinks. And with that, he washes his hands of the topic. He officially decides to leave it alone.

So they talk about the little things. For a while. Lance lays out the basics of his own family, listing each sibling's eccentricities, talking about his grandmother's cooking and his dad's stupid jokes. Keith doesn't talk a lot, but that's fine. He's listening, smiling just a little bit after a while. The counter girl that was keeping an eye on Lance deems him safe, stops watching him.

Keith eventually has questions. And occasional details of his own to help explain why he has those questions. He's curious about what it is like to live in a house full of extended family. Lance has always described it as "overflowing with love"— way too crowded, but in a good way. He'd rather live in a studio apartment with his whole family than in a mansion by himself.

Keith's not a stranger to crowded homes, but his crowds were made up of strangers. He admits that he and his half-brother Takashi grew up in a group home after being abandoned by their parents. Their basic needs were provided for, but it wasn't a family. All that he and his brother ever hoped for was to make a home of their own once they were old enough.

They were taken in sometimes. Into foster homes with "parents" that didn't intend to make them feel like family members, and even separated from time to time, and always to end up back in that same building once they were deemed, somehow, "defective". The closest thing that Keith knew to a home back then was the public garden down the street.

One day Adam showed up. He took to Takashi quickly, and if getting closer to him meant befriending Keith, Adam was willing to cooperate. And then the home wasn't all that bad. With the three of them, it did start to feel as though they had a family, at least. They had a great time pretending to be "problem children" to ensure that they would not be separated. They knew what they would do as soon as they were free and formulated a plan.

Takashi and Adam began working, and saving up their money, as soon as they were old enough. At eighteen, they got married in a courthouse with Keith as their only witness. They worked until they could afford to acquire their little shop and the living space above it. Keith worked there as soon as he was old enough and left the home to live with them the moment he turned eighteen.

And the rest is history— their little flower shop managed to catch on, and though small business is tough, they've managed to hold on thus far.

Keith doesn't normally share these kinds of things, this backstory of his, with people he hardly knows. He's had entire relationships in which he never mentions the home at all. He and Takashi do not often talk about it, because they don't like to waste their time reflecting on unpleasant things and they try not to let those things define them as they are now.

He just feels like he can trust Lance. Somehow. Like Lance wants to know because he does actually care, like he won't tell anyone else. Keith almost feels as though he has met Lance somewhere before. This could just be because Lance looks so startlingly similar to his siblings, both of whom are semi-regular customers. Or it could be something else.

By the time they leave, coffee girl is waving to Keith and swooning in a way that is not at all subtle. He's going to get an earful about this later, he just knows, and he's so embarrassed by the thought of it that he considers skipping his usual lunch break tomorrow in order to avoid running into her.

Keith hopes to make up for his uncharacteristic sappiness by getting back to work and getting a lot done. Even if it's useless busy work.

"That was... nice," Keith says as he re-dons his apron and name tag. "Maybe I shouldn't be so antisocial all the time."

"Hey, now— I think it makes sense in your case." Keith starts to roll his eyes and protest, because he _hates_ being pitied and this is exactly why he never tells people about the way he grew up. "You know it's about quality, right? Not quantity."

Keith closes his mouth. He has never thought about it that way.

"That... yeah. You're right. Guess there's no point in entertaining some huge circle of thirty friends and acquaintances when I've got everything I really need."

He smiles fondly at the thought of his family. _Dammit_. Now he's going to start missing them, itching for them to come home. Maybe he'll even give Takashi a hug? He doesn't want to get carried away.

"Still," Lance says, "you should always be open to new experiences, right? For all you know there's just _ooooone_ more really great, funny, charming, and UNBEARABLY sexy person you're supposed to meet."

Keith laughs.

"Heh. Maybe."

There's an awkward silence where Keith can't meet Lance's eyes. Keith kind of wants to ask Lance for his number. He kind of hopes that Lance will ask him for his. He wants, somehow, to guarantee that they can and will see one another again. A confirmation that this afternoon really wasn't a waste of time.

Lance, though, doesn't want to do something so boring as giving out a phone number. Keith is special. He's made that very apparent in just one little date. So, Lance empties his pockets. He only has a couple of dollar bills left after paying for the flowers (the ones he almost forgot in the café) and for lunch. He offers an awkward grin and holds up the cash.

"What can I get with two dollars?"

"Are you serious?"

"Just humor me."

Keith huffs, but takes the money. He doesn't bother to put the order into the register or anything. He shoves the bills into one pocket and picks a single flower from one of the wooden display shelves along the wall. He hands it to Lance. It's a daisy. Lance isn't sure why he picked that one, but he knows Keith knows his flowers, so there must be some reason.

"Thank you for your continued patronage," Keith drones as Lance takes the flower from him with careful fingers.

"No problem."

Lance turns around and walks outside with no formal farewell. He knows Keith must be confused about it. Lance waits on the sidewalk for about ten seconds. Then, when he's satisfied that the pause has been dramatic enough, he walks back inside, letting the bell announce his re-arrival. Keith hasn't moved from where he was standing. His hands are on his hips.

" _May I help you?_ " Keith asks, tone terse. Lance grins and whips out the daisy, extending it outwards, towards Keith. Keith takes it without seeming to put any thought into it. It's one of those odd things that people tend to do— they almost always take objects that are handed to them. "What's—"

"Would you like to accompany me to a party tonight?"

Keith stares at the flower for about four painfully silent seconds.

"Why did you go outside?"

"Dramatic effect. I wouldn't want to take it from you just to hand it right back."

"No, of course not." Keith's expression and tone are mocking Lance. "That would be ridiculous."

"Will you accompany me or not?"

Another long pause.

Keith smirks and tucks the daisy behind his own ear.

"Sure," he relents. "Pick me up."

"That—" Lance is surprised, somehow. He wasn't expecting Keith to say NO, not exactly, but he's still surprised. "That's great! I will. I'll be back here to get you at six-thirty, okay? Event starts at seven. Wear something nice!"

Lance doesn't give Keith a chance to make any excuses or ask too many specifics. He's out the door once more before Keith can change his mind. Lance can't know for sure yet, but Keith seems to him like the kind of guy that might feel embarrassed and suddenly change his mind. He whips out his phone to text Hunk as he skips down the sidewalk. He's not going to be alone and mopey at this dinner after all.

 _Oh_ — and he also has a very nice, thoughtful present for their good friend Lotor.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't fucking control myself. Now I wanna write a prequel thing about Shiro teaching baby Keith about the flowers and their flower code. And maybe a sequel about the party in which Lotor reveals that he does, in fact, try to steal all of Lance’s love interests on purpose by going after Keith.


End file.
